


Crimson Persuasion

by HouseofTheBear



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sorry Not Sorry, Sort Of, Spanking, Voyeurism, go easy on me please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 09:44:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14892260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseofTheBear/pseuds/HouseofTheBear
Summary: Qi'ra entices Dryden with crimson, the color of anger. Danger. Passion.





	Crimson Persuasion

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this is a *BIG* departure from what I usually write. But let's just say that those images of Dryden Vos on Tumblr are an amazing inspiration. 
> 
> This is my first foray into writing these two and I probably got a lot of things wrong, so please forgive me.
> 
> With that said, enjoy!

“The Twi’lek finally responded to your message. He will be at the party tonight, the cargo ready to hand over to you.”

                Qi’ra stood in the doorway to Dryden’s office, his attention unmoved from his desk. It would appear to any outsider that he was ignoring her, but they would be so very wrong. He had heard every word, but chose not to acknowledge them. This information was a long time coming and she knew full well that it didn’t please him.

                “About time,” his tone flat, “But I shouldn’t be surprised it took him so long.”

                She walked across the room; the click of her heels echoing through the stillness, the sun shining through the windows bathing him in golden light that glinted off the highlights in his fastidiously styled flaxen hair. His cape lay draped over his chair, neatly folded, his crisp white shirt clinging to his leanly muscled chest in a way that made an ache stir low in her belly. He rarely dressed this way, preferring to swath himself completely in black, in darkness. She granted that he cut an impressive figure, tall and imposing, his controlled demeanor disguising the devil within.

                Rounding the desk and stopping at his side, the hem of her dress continued its motion to brush against his leg as if the fabric was reading its owner’s mind, knowing her hidden desire. The movement caught his eye, drawing his head to her direction. His eyes traveled over her deliberately, his body easing back in his chair to take her in fully. His face was unreadable to nearly everyone, but not to her. The minute flair of his nostrils, the infinitesimal twitch at the corner of his wicked mouth. The subtle signs of his burgeoning need.

                “This color suits you, Qi’ra.”

                “And all this time I thought you preferred me in black.”

                His eyebrow quirked. “I do. You look positively _deadly_ in black.”

                She leaned back against his desk, her hands resting on the edge. The action caused the dress to draw tighter against her breasts, her nipples hard and inviting, the slit up her leg parting further to give him an eyeful of her creamy thigh. His jaw shifted, “Crimson is the color of anger. Danger.” His eyes holding hers captive. “ _Passion._ ”

                That last word fell from his lips in a purr laced with desire. She cursed inwardly at how his voice could unravel her so easily, leave her utterly powerless. It was one of his many weapons and he wielded it with artfully precision, disarming his more slow-witted associates without even batting an eye. Yet, there was a shift in his tone, one he used only with her. And he was using it now, her inner rebuke shifting to a smile at the triumph of her plan. _Perhaps she had power after all_.

                “Anger and passion share the same bed,” her head tilting to the side, exposing the graceful line of her neck, “Only a heartbeat separates them.”

                Red shaded the edge of his eyes, his markings darkening at her words, “I know which one you embody.” He reached over and pressed a button under his desk, the faint click of the lock engaging the door. _Trapped_. Qi’ra’s heart thundered in her chest, of all the places he had taken her, his office was the only one they had not christened with their lust. His hand darted out, then stopped before it eased under the opening of her dress, his cool fingers drawing over her heated skin to curl around her hip, his grasp tight, unyielding. A gasp left her unbidden, his eyes snapping to hers, “Sit on the desk.”

                He didn’t let go or move out of her way, making her have to maneuver around his long, spread legs until she perched on the edge, his hand slipping down to close around the lithe muscle of her calf, “Pull up your dress and spread your legs. I want to see you.”

                 Dryden was in complete control now and it was exactly what Qi’ra wanted. She would never admit to anyone how she yearned for his dominion over her, how she would have never allowed another man to even come close to doing the things _this man_ did to her. She rested her feet on the arms of his chair and slowly eased the dress upward, revealing herself to him at her own pace. His jaw clenched, normally he was not a man that liked to be kept waiting, but he tolerated it now because it was something _he_ had commanded her to do. The fabric pooled in her lap and she spread her legs wider, his eyes finally leaving hers to stare at her displayed sex. “So wet for me, Qi’ra. What were you thinking about?”

                 “You,” her fingers drawing down to part her lips, exposing her clit to him, swollen and aching for stimulation, “Fucking me on this desk.”

                Dryden’s lips curled into a devilish smile and Qi’ra knew she flipped the right switch, “In due time. But first, you will do something for me.” He met her eyes again, “Touch yourself.”

                She flushed hot at his words, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, her fingers drifting down to her slick entrance, gathering her wetness and bringing it up to coat herself, the swirling flick of her digits making her mouth fall open in a soft _oh_ of pleasure. His hand tightened on her calf, his fingertips biting into her flesh, “Not so fast.”

                Knowing better than to go against his orders, she did as she was told, her movements slowing until she could almost feel the individual ridges of her own fingerprint skating over her ultrasensitive clit. He was watching her intently like some private erotic show, both of his hands now wrapped around her calves, holding her in place. They had played this game before, testing one another to see who would break first. It was always her, unable to rein in the desire that raced through her veins any longer. However, today seemed different, the air pulsing with electricity, like the hum of hyperdrive engine.  Cracks were beginning to form in his control, his lips parting to draw breath, the increased tempo of his respiration betraying his seemingly calm exterior. The whites of his eyes were rapidly disappearing into the red, the lines across his visage practically matching the shade of her dress. Her clit slipped between her fingers and a moan tore from her throat, his hips responding with a sharp jerk of their own volition. His body knew what it wanted, but he held back, allowing a singular concession to his need: his right hand let go of her leg, moving to palm his hardness through his pants, the fabric tight over its thick length. Her eyelids fluttered at the gesture, her being desperate to be filled with him as only he could.

                “Vos,” she breathed, two of her digits burying deep in her dripping sex, stroking that place along the front wall of her channel, her thumb resuming the slow tease of her nub. Her mind replayed the night he found that toe-curlingly good part of her: bound to his bed, his hand between her legs, fingering her without mercy until she shattered with a high scream, his name reverberating through the room. He had licked his fingers and palm clean with relish before flipping her onto her stomach, rutting like animals until her thighs were sticky with their combined release, their bodies bathed in sweat.

                Her sex clenched around her probing fingers at the memory, her orgasm a heavy tingling weight in her belly. His shirt pulled taut with every heaving breath he took and the sight of him made Qi’ra want him so badly it hurt. “Please,” she mewled, “Vos, I-”

                “Stop.” His voice tight with strain, “Bend over the desk, hands above your head.”

                Her sex spasmed at his demand and she complied, turning her head to watch him as he stood, looming over her bent form. Clothing rustled, then the blunt head of his cock pressed to her entrance, but went no further. She knew what he wanted, “Vos, please…”

                His hand connected hard with swell of her ass and she gasped at the suddenness of it as much as at the pleasure that jolted through her body to center at her throbbing clit. He blanketed her with his tall frame, his breath hot against her ear. “No, Qi’ra, I want to hear you say it.”

She met his eyes over her shoulder, her voice broken and pleading, knowing what he needed to hear, “Fuck me, Vos.”

His hand fisted in her hair and he pulled her until their lips met in a bruising, messy kiss before he let go, his hands grasping the cheeks of her ass hard, exposing and opening her more to his hungry gaze. He loved to watch, the sight of his cock spreading her lips going in only to come out glistening with her juices. And she came to realize she loved it too, the thought that the most powerful crime lord in the galaxy was completely undone by her, a poor sewer rat from Corellia. But she wasn’t that anymore. He trusted her more than anyone else and that afforded her a status she was sure few others had held. But now, Dryden was the master of her pleasure and she was all too happy to submit to him.

She bucked against the hard, cold metal, her body screaming for release. He bottomed out in her with a hard grunt, the unceremonious thrust slamming her against the edge of the desk, no doubt leaving bruises in its wake. And then it was only him, pounding into her, magnificently fast and deliciously hard, just the way she wanted it. He tilted her hips more, her feet on tip toe struggling to stay connected with the floor. His grip tightened, his animalistic growls bringing a rush of new wetness to slick his pistoning cock. He rewarded her with another slap on her ass, her sex convulsing around him, her voice unrecognizable in her lust-filled haze. She turned to look at him, his eyes riveted on where he disappeared within her, the deep V of his shirt giving her a glimpse of his glorious chest, a sheen of sweat beginning to appear. This side of him drove her crazy, his voracious desire wild, uninhibited, and the best part of it, solely focused on her. While he knew his orgasm was guaranteed, he was unselfish enough to see to her needs, but not before he took what she so willingly offered.

He let go of her ass and leaned over her once more, his hips speeding up their perfect rhythm, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin weaving with their panted breaths and impassioned noises. His hands pinned hers to his desk, his teeth nipping at her neck, his hot breath dampening her skin. The stream of broken guttural obscenities and filthy praise washed over her in a voice that sounded like sin and she used his restraint as leverage to press back into his thrusts, her hips grinding against him, searching for what she needed. It didn’t take long for her to find it, her head falling back on her shoulders, her throaty moans ripped from deep within.

“That’s right, Qi’ra,” he panted through gritted teeth, “Come for me.”

“Vos, I need…please.”

Her keen was so pitiful she knew how much it would thrill him and he knew without asking what she wanted. One hand left hers to move between her legs, her clit so hard and slick he only needed to circle it twice to send her over the edge. She tensed beneath him, then shuddered hard, his name a loud cry, one she didn’t care who heard it.

Vos swore into her hair at the exquisite throbbing of her sex around him, his fingers still moving on her nub even though she whimpered at the overload of sensation. He thrust twice more before he stilled, filling her with his essence in long searing jets that left him barely able to support himself above her, his arm shaking from the effort. His hips twitched with the aftershocks of his peak, but his near-human physiology made his vital signs recover rather quickly. She glanced back at him as she caught her breath, the color of his marks fading to their usual hue. His eyes were closed, but they snapped open as he must have felt her staring at him. It was in these moments that something happened to Dryden Vos, something that she knew must remain a secret. There was a warmth in the way he looked at her, a vulnerability in his posture, his touch gentle as he gathered her hair and moved it so he could kiss her, vastly different than the one they had shared earlier. His fingers trailed along her side and over the slightly reddened skin of her ass, a soothing gesture incongruous with their fierce coupling.

Dryden slipped from her body, her brows drawing together in a wince. Concern flickered for an instant on his face, his hands adjusting himself back into his clothing without looking. Then he lifted her into his arms and strode for his private lift without another word. Qi’ra was confused; Dryden was not the kind of man to do something like this. He didn’t meet her questioning gaze, merely entering his passcode and waiting for the door to whoosh open. They rode in silence to his quarters, and once there, he set her down by his large, luxurious bed, meticulously made with inky black silk sheets. She couldn’t stand it any longer, “Vos, what-”

He met her eyes with a smile, “Qi’ra, you are so very good to me.” His fingers set to work, removing the dress from her body before turning and draping it with care over a nearby chair. He turned back to her, his piercing blue irises gazing down into her own, his fingers trailing over the golden necklace resting in the hollow of her throat, “I simply wish to return the favor.”

A soft laugh bubbled up inside her, “I thought that’s what you were doing downstairs.”

“That was only the beginning.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written in two hours and not beta-read, I have no idea if this is even any good. But I sure had fun writing it ;)


End file.
